


Dance, sun and sea

by oxiosa



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Latin Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-24 13:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9739799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxiosa/pseuds/oxiosa
Summary: He’d lie if he said he didn’t dream of meeting her again. He had, multiple times since she left, but that had been years ago. He had long ago gotten over her. It's been, what? Fifteen years since he last saw her? That she left to never return? That she stopped him in a beach and stole a kiss from him?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclamer; the characters used in this work belong to the community Latin Hetalia and their respective creators. More info about them in the following link > www.latin-hetalia.livejournal.com
> 
> Fem!Argentina: Martina Hernández.  
> Brazil: Luciano Da Silva.

Luciano has always been a persistent little brother.

Or that’s what his older sister always tells him, as she rolls her eyes and ruffles his hair. A cute little menace with big puppy eyes, in her words. Luciano doesn’t mind; his big puppy eyes have taken him far in the span of his short life.

If it weren’t for them, his sister wouldn’t have ended up relenting when he begged her to take him with her and her band. They are playing in a small beach bar, and it’s their first official job, so she promised to take him if he promised to behave.

Just like now, for example. The old puppy eye trick has not only got him to stick with the band, but her sister’s friends even humoured him and gave him a _cabasa_ to play along with them. Shaking the instrument to the rhythm of the music, Luciano stands on the bar’s little stage with her sister’s band, a wide smile painted on his face.

The day couldn’t be any better, he thinks to himself, and that's when he sees her for the first time.

She’s gathering some glasses from an empty table, not even aware of his presence.

Luciano feels he’s been struck.

Sure, he is barely eleven years old, and he doesn’t even know her name, but he's sure not even a lifetime will make him forget the way the sun plays with the golden of her hair, the warm green of her eyes, or they way her shy smile turns delightfully mischievous when she looks up and catches his glance.

He feels a friendly nudge on the ribs, and blinks away from his stupor. The guitar player on his sister's band winks at him. _'Go get her'_ , he mouths and gestures with his head in her direction.

Luciano gives him a timid smile, but he doesn’t need him to insist. He drops his _cabasa_ and jumps down the little stage the band is playing on.

He makes his way to her, and gently taps her shoulder. She turns around, and her eyebrows arch up when he offers her his hand with a toothy smile. Slowly, she reaches out and lets him take her to the dance floor.

She places her hand on his shoulder uncertainly, and follows his lead with what Luciano firstly mistakes for shyness - later he’ll learn she’s just unfamiliar with the dance. They don't talk much. Luciano tries, but she doesn't seem to understand half of what's he's saying.

This first time, they just dance and laugh.

 

Next time Luciano offers his hand, she takes it with no hesitation. She is more confident now that she’s getting the hang of it; she learns fast what Luciano teaches her.

She doesn't speak much Portuguese, but she talks like she dances; she takes something strange and foreign to her and conquers it with mere force of will and a little bit of charming improvisation here and there.

Luciano manages to learn a bit of her from what they talk every day he goes visit the bar to dance with her; her name is Martina, and she’s not from around here. Her father owns the beach bar, but since he’s usually never around, Martina and her mother are the ones who run it together. She’s fun, really clever, and surprisingly mischievous for someone so angelic-looking. Luciano is smitten.

He also learns other things, not from Martina's mouth. People say her dad comes back home late tumbling to the front door. That there's a lot of shouting and crying in her house.

Luciano has never seen Martina’s father. Her mother he knows; she’s a nice young woman who always stays behind the bar. She always greets Luciano with a friendly smile, and her tired eyes lighten up as she watches Luciano take Martina to the dance floor. Luciano likes her. She always offers him a soda to share with Martina once they both drop by her bar, exhausted from dancing.

He doesn’t meet Martina’s father until later on, and wishes he hadn’t met him at all.

He’s dancing with Martina like he always does, smiling and laughing, when Martina's father yanks her out of Luciano's arms.

He mutters something in fast angry Spanish that Luciano doesn't entirely understand. Martina's eyes are round with fear, but she sets her jaw and squares her shoulders, her voice steady and defying if a little taut when she replies. Luciano has no idea what they are saying, but he can tell talking back was a mistake for the way Martina's father's face twist and reddens in anger. It's her mother who steps forward in time to cool things off; she snatches Martina from her husband's hands and sends her off back to work with a stern frown and scolding voice Luciano has never heard from her before.

Martina pouts, but relents. She stomps away and disappears to the back of the bar. Her father watches her leave, lips pursed in disapproval, before he shoots Luciano a sharp glance. It's enough for Luciano to know he should leave - at least for the day.

 

Martina avoids him the following evening when Luciano returns to the bar. She barely gives him quick sidelong glances from behind a long thick curtain of golden hair for the rest of the day. He doesn't know why, until he sees the ugly purple marks spreading across her cheekbone and snaking around her arm.

Fear, guilt and worry settle in his chest. He tries to reach her, but she flees to the back of the bar under the watchful glance of her father. Luciano can only helplessly watch her go.

Her father gives Luciano a triumphant smirk from the back of the bar.

There's nothing Luciano can do now, not here. Maybe he can come back during closing hours, maybe then he’d be able to sneak away with Martina. If only he had asked where she lives, he could have tried reaching her there.

With a heavy heart, Luciano leaves the bar. He’ll try again tomorrow. Hopefully, Martina’s father will be gone again, like always.

After some steps on the warm sand, a hand slips into his. He turns around, and before he can understand what's going on, a couple of soft lips press against his.

Luciano can only stare with his mouth hanging open as Martina gives him a coy glance and runs back to the bar, before her father notices she’s gone.

Luciano feels his face has caught on fire. He’ll return tomorrow, and the day after, and every single day forever until he gets to dance with Martina again. Maybe _he_ ’ll even get to kiss her this time.

 

He doesn't see her again after that. They say it was a big fight. That her mom kicked Martina's dad out. That she grabbed a suitcase in one hand and her daughter’s on the other and left town in the middle of the night, hoping to find a better life.

With a heart heavy with longing and lost love, Luciano hopes she does.

 

Martina never truly leaves him. No first love ever does. Especially to a hopelessly romantic soul such as Luciano. He's gotten over her long ago, after all these years, but she'll always have a special place in the corner of his heart. He'll always remember her with fond nostalgia, the pretty girl that danced his heart away and left him with a childish kiss in the beach. There's some magic there, in two young innocent star-crossed lovers falling in love for the first time, that brings a smile to his face.

Luciano's always been a sucker for a good love story.

 

He doesn't get to think of her again until years later.

Luciano follows after his sister's steps, and gives his life to art. He becomes a musician - not a bad one if he can say so himself, but definitely an unlucky one.

So he pays the rent working for a catering company, waltzing around parties offering drinks and food, meeting all sorts of fancy people like he always dreamt - just not in the way he did. He always pictured himself picking champagne from a tray, not being the one holding it, but it’ll have to do - _for now, not for long,_ Luciano reminds himself.

Today is no different; some rich man is throwing a party at his place over his engagement.

The house is insane. Placed in what might be the finest neighbourhood in town, Luciano is sure that by the size of it, at least ten people can comfortably live there. The kitchen itself might be as big as Luciano's whole apartment. The rooms are wide and well-lit, with large glass walls, wide rooms, tall roofs, and modern fashionable furniture.

If the house is nice, the garden doesn’t fall behind. It’s wide, the grass green and neatly trimmed, the plants and flowers surrounding the house perfectly looked after. There’s also a pool, just as spotless as the rest of the house, the water sparkling playfully under the sun as the guests gather around it, laughing and chatting with drinks in their hands. Everyone is dressed in white; Luciano in his black waiter suit is an easy target for thirsty guests. So he walks around offering smiles and drinks, trying to make the best out of a shitty job.

There's barely a couple of drinks left on his tray when he spots the groom gesturing for him from across the party. Luciano obediently marches to him, and offers the man and his friends his last drinks. Luciano can't help a smile; the man is a happy middle aged man, a little drunk from champagne and - as _he_ claims - love. As he takes a glass of champagne from Luciano, he doesn't refrain from singing praises to his bride, apparently the loveliest kindest smartest woman on Earth if Luciano is to trust a drunk man’s babble. Luciano laughs good naturedly with the man's friends at the hopeless tipsy groom.

Luciano has seen guys like this. Wealthy, happy old men who had been lucky enough in life not to have a care in the world. Beats the cocky entitled bastards he's worked for before, but to be honest, it makes him feel bad about the poor man. With a wallet the size of this man's, he knows what kind of bride to expect; gorgeous, half his age and spoiled. She will most likely spend the rest of their marriage counting down the days till her husband’s death.

Like summoned by his thoughts, a beautiful young woman comes to the groom’s side and hugs his arm, teasing him in a slightly accented Portuguese. The groom's face brightens up at the sight of her. He catches her hand on his and gives her fingers a kiss that makes her laugh. _His princess_ , he calls her with a voice full of praise.

_Well, speak of the devil,_ Luciano thinks. _Here comes the bride._

Dressed in a short white dress like the rest of the guests, she's tall and slim, her skin barely kissed by the sun in a light tan. Her blond hair is elaborately braided in a high hairstyle, emphasising the length of her elegant neck. A wide bright smile curves her red lips, and she looks genuinely happy to be by the groom’s side. She bumps her shoulder playfully against the groom’s, and scoots a little closer when he curls a hand around her shoulder.

Well, maybe Luciano was wrong about the counting the days till the old man’s death thing, but he was not wrong about her looks. Just like he predicted, she's drop dead gorgeous.

Their eyes meet the moment she reaches for the last glass of champagne on Luciano's tray, and suddenly it's almost as if the world has suddenly disappeared around Luciano. All he can look at is at very familiar green eyes.

His tray almost slips out of his palm the moment he recognises her - truly recognises _her_.

He stares at her - blatantly, rudely stares at her wide-eyed and open-mouthed. She returns his gaze with uncertainty, her eyes roaming and taking in his face as if looking for something she’s missing.

She doesn't recognize him.

_Good._

Luciano gives a nod and a polite smile and flees, a little too late as her eyes go round with recognition. But Luciano is already gone before she can even call for him. He makes his way through a sea of people, thanking God his tray is empty and no one is stopping his hasty retreat.

He pushes his way into the busy kitchen, and sags against the counter trying to catch his breath. The kitchen buzzes with staff coming and going like a beehive, waiters waltzing in and out with full and empty trays of food and drinks.

The headwaiter passes him a tray with some food to take out to the party, but Luciano raises a finger in his direction apologetically, silently asking for a moment. The headwaiter leaves with the stern promise of coming back later. Luciano can’t bring himself to care about the hidden scolding there.

He tips his head back and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath trying to ease his drumming heart.

He’d lie if he said he didn’t dream of meeting her again. He had, multiple times since she left, but that had been _years_ ago. He had long ago gotten over her. It's been, what? Fifteen years since he last saw her? That she left to never return? That she stopped him in a beach and stole a kiss from him?

The excitement of meeting her again dissolves in distaste as disappointment sets on the pit of his stomach. He was not expecting for her to leap into his arms, but he _definitely_ wasn't ready to meet her again on her own _engagement party._

He's a fool to let this upset him like this. And yet he can't help the sour taste this whole situation leaves in his mouth.

"Luciano?"

Luciano almost grimaces. He’s about to let a curse slip out of his mouth.

Of course she would follow him. Of course he wouldn’t be able to get away from her.

"Martina..." he lets out a quiet sigh and opens his eyes.

A wide smile spreads across Martina's face, and how does she look even more beautiful than a moment ago? He swears she does, now that her eyes and smile are solely his.

"I can't believe it!" she laughs, and before he knows it, her arms curl around his shoulders as she traps him in a tight happy hug. "It's been so long! How have you been?!"

Luciano clumsily places his palms on her waist, a little too startled. He can’t help but give a quick glance around; some of the staff are giving them curious weird glances. Martina pulls away - she doesn’t let go of him though, her heavily ringed hands curling around his shoulders. She smiles for him waiting for an answer, her eyes so bright and honestly happy to have him here with her.

"I've been fine," he says, and he's glad he doesn't sound as hysterical as he feels. "I'm, ah, kind of busy right now… Guests are not supposed to be allowed to the kitchen, you know..."

That brings a small very familiar frown to her brow. She’s pouting at him.

"I _live_ here," she points out.

Of course. It's like a neat punch to the guts.

"Right," Luciano answers and tries to take another deep breath.

Martina gives him a funny look. He’s being too obvious, Luciano thinks. Still, she seems to let it slide. She gives him a smile, hopefully inviting him to smile back at her.

"For a moment there, I thought you didn’t remember me," she teases.

_Teases_ him. Luciano feels slightly sick.

"I would never forget my favourite dance partner," he says, and tries to smile back at her.

Her smile only widens, and there's a pleased blush colouring her cheeks. It only lasts a couple of seconds; she drops her smile as soon as she gives a glance around. The staff quickly avert their curious eyes from them and pretend to work, but Luciano knows they fool no one; they’re still paying full attention to what’s going on between them, waiting for the drama to unravel.

"Would you mind if we just…?" she gestures to the kitchen’s door. "Can we talk somewhere a little more private, if you don’t mind?"

The kitchen grows unnervingly quiet. Martina gives him a shy smile, and Luciano’s eye catches a luminous sparkle on her left hand he makes a point and an effort not to look at it.

As all the ears in the room wait for his answer, Luciano knows what he should say. Letting her take him away will be a mistake. He knows the right answer, knows what’s the right thing to do.

He doesn’t do it.

"Sure," he replies.

All eyes follow them, but no one stops them as Martina leads him out of the kitchen.

Luciano doesn't dare speak as she guides him through the house, away from the party, away from prying eyes. She doesn't take him too far; she stops after a turn here and there, in a narrow corridor that if Luciano had to guess, he'd say it took to some basement or underground garage.

Martina rests against a wall, and lets out a long sigh. She chews on her lower lip a moment - and God, she must be doing it on _purpose_ , Luciano can only think - before speaking.

"I owe you an apology," she says quietly then. She huffs, annoyed with herself, and her voice gathers strength again. "I never meant to leave like that. I didn't know we would leave town when we did, Luciano, it was all so sudden..."

"It's fine," Luciano interrupts her and forces himself to give her a reassuring smile.

She had broken his heart, but Luciano had long since gotten over it - thought he had, apparently.

Martina wrinkles her nose at him.

"It’s not fine," she says. But she doesn't press. She gives him a coy glance, and he’s sure she’s pouting again. "I thought of you, you know… I missed you. Missed that I wasn’t getting to know you better anymore, if that makes any sense at all."

Luciano's heart clenches painfully in his chest. He knows exactly what she means.

"I know it doesn’t change anything and that it doesn’t matter after all these years anyways," she adds quickly. Almost excusing herself. "I just wanted you to know... I did think of you. I did care about you."

She looks at him with honest earnest eyes, and waits. Luciano knows he should say something, but Martina has twisted his world upside down again and disarmed him twice in less than an hour. He’d like to answer, if only he could find his voice and get past the hot knot on his chest.

Martina misinterprets his silence. Her shoulders sag down, and her face falls in heartbreaking disappointment.

"You didn’t think of me..." she says to herself, and it’s not a question.

She’s wrong. Dead wrong.

He wants to say so, but can’t. He can’t speak when he’s closing the space between them and leaning forward to steal a gentle kiss from her.

It's a very innocent kiss, in all fairness. Just like the one she stole from him all those years ago. Luciano presses his lips against hers, doesn't even think about taking it further than that gentle touch - he is not thinking altogether.

With closed eyes and hands and lips only to Martina, Luciano loses himself for some seconds. For a moment, there's no party, no happy groom, no engagement. Just the two of them.

He pulls away, slowly, and opens his eyes again. Martina stares at him with wide blown green eyes.

He just kissed the bride on her engagement party. Luciano realizes he might have fucked up.

His brain is already searching for some sort of apology, when Martina leans forward again and kisses him.

Now is Luciano’s turn to be taken aback. But he's always considered himself flexible, and soon he's melting into her, kissing her back. He slides a hand on her waist, and gently cups her face, letting his palm travel up and his fingers sink in her hair. Martina’s hand curl around the back of his neck, gently guiding forward, as the other curls into a fist around Luciano’s shirt, over his heart. This kiss is not as chaste as the last, but it is a little shy, so slow and sweet that Luciano almost feels his knees go weak.

Martina pulls away and Luciano chases after her mouth again. He presses his body tightly against Martina’s, trapping her against the wall at her back, and shivers when she runs her nails on the back of his neck. They are not so sweet this time, pushing and pulling in all the right places and directions. They are not necessarily rough, but there’s no tenderness in it, not like before.

Luciano's starting to feel dizzy when Martina pulls away, breathing heavily. Her lipstick is mostly gone. Luciano can almost imagine all the red smeared across his face - the mental image is a little exhilarating.

"I'm sorry I never said goodbye," she breaths out.

"It was not your fault," Luciano says, and he means it.

"I know," Martina says. Frowns at it, like she has thought about it a millions times before getting to that conclusion too. She might have, Luciano realizes. "Doesn't mean I can't be sorry. I wish I had left you a message, some kind of letter, anything..."

Luciano absently runs his fingers through the loose golden strands of her hair. Her fancy braid is long gone in a mess Luciano fully knows is his fault.

"You left a kiss," he offers.

That brings a smile and a blush to Martina's face.

"Barely a kiss," she says, and smiles at the memory with a kind of fondness Luciano himself knows all too well. "Let me make it up to you. How about some dinner? We can catch up."

His smile falters as reality crashes back to him.

She almost made him forget why they're both here in the first place. He's been weak, letting Martina drag him away. He barely knows her, but wants to get to know her better _so bad_ , it makes no sense. He barely knows her, but damn, he wants to kiss her.

He wants to kiss her so bad, and _can’t._

He pulls away with a defeated sigh. He retreats and presses his back against the wall opposite from Martina. Martina follows after him, but he catches her gently, curling his hands around her arms.

Martina gives him a confused look. Luciano lowers his eyes.

"I don’t want to do this, Martina," he says weakly.

She slowly retreats.

"I'm... sorry?" She sounds so puzzled and wounded.

Luciano meets her eyes, and yes, the way she looks might break his heart. Rejection doesn’t suit her at all.

"This is not right," Luciano says, trying to explain himself. Hoping she’ll understand. "I mean, I want you, but not… this… it’s not right, you know it..."

"I don’t…?" she frowns, slight annoyance suddenly reddening her cheeks. "What are you even talking about, are you mocking me, Luciano…?"

Now Luciano frowns.

"You’re getting married, Martina," he says, and he might sounded a little more accusing than he intended.

Martina’s eyes go wide and her mouth slacks open. Her face turns the personification of horror.

"Oh, Jesus Christ. No. No, no. _No,_ " she mumbles. "No, Luciano, he's my stepdad. He's been dating my mom for years, he’s marrying _her_ … He’s not… Oh, God, no..."

Luciano stares at her. They remain quiet, staring at each other wide eyed for a moment, before Luciano finally finds his voice again.

"You mean you’re not getting married?"

Martina wrinkles her nose.

"No, God..." she says. "He’s like my father, geez..."

Luciano stares a little more. Then, he lets go of Martina and sags against the wall on his back.

"Oh, _thank God_ ," Luciano moans as he presses a hand over his poor heart.

Martina blinks at him. Then, she bursts into laughter. For a moment, Luciano is too busy trying to gather some composure to even mind.

"You really thought _I_ was getting married?!" Martina shrieks.

Luciano doesn’t laugh. He stares unamused at her as she basically bends in two in laughter.

"So that’s why you were being so weird," she gives him a wicked smile. Then, she lets out a dramatic gasp and covers her mouth with one hand. She points an accusing finger in his direction. _"You kissed an engaged woman!_ "

"You are not engaged," he says flatly.

"You thought I was, same thing," she bats his complaint away with a perfectly manicured hand; her rings sparkle with the movement. She proceeds to give him a mischievous smile. "That’s sinful, Luciano..."

"I know," he mumbles and rolls his eyes. "Would you drop it, please? It was really stressful, ok?"

"I bet," Martina agrees, and has the nerve to lean forward and give him a light peck on the lips before giggling to herself.

He rolls his eyes at her again, but there’s a smile already creeping to his face. He’s starting to feel a little funny himself, relief slowly washing away all the tension.

"So, about the dinner I mentioned before..." Martina gives him her best smile.

A full smile curves his lips this time.

"Next friday night?" he asks. He adds, because he can; "I can pick you up, I know where you live."

She rolls her eyes at him, but her smile grows wider.

"Ok," she agrees. "Friday night sounds good. Now, since we’re at a party with nice drinks and good food, how about you take me to the dance floor?"

"For old times’ sake?" Luciano teases.

"Of course," she says, and winks at him like he’s finally catching up.

He chuckles, and has to bite his lips. God, he’d really like to take her out and dance.

"I'm kind of working," he says, a reminder to the both of them, Martina and himself.

"That never stopped you from taking me out back then," she replies, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You’re gonna get me fired, aren’t you?" Luciano sighs dramatically.

She cocks her head to the side, like she’s giving it a thought.

"Would you miss the job?" she asks, suddenly a little too serious.

"No," Luciano doesn’t even hesitate in his answer.

Martina smiles back at him.

"Then, yes, I am getting you fired," she says, and takes his hand to drag him back to the party.

Luciano’s laughter joins Martina’s as he pulls loose the stupid bowtie on his neck and throws his white gloves over his head. Martina’s high heels follow suit, and once they reach the dance floor, Luciano is taking Martina's hand and pulling her close. She laughs, loud and shameless, and moves against him in perfect synchronicity, like all the time they have been apart means nothing. She follows his lead, taking over whenever he drops his guard with a cheekiness that charms Luciano all over again.

As he twirls with Martina in his arms following the sweet cheerful music, Luciano can almost feel the sea breeze tangling in his hair and feel the sand under his soles.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you know [ Chico and Roberta's love story ](https://youtu.be/iyLdoQGBchQ) has [ a second part ](https://youtu.be/lRWqYR3e7xE) 'cause I basically just found out...
> 
> As always, thanks to Zu for beta reading uvu


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